


Sorry about the blood in your mouth (I wish it was mine)

by linndechir



Category: Mob City
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-05
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-22 02:54:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1573481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linndechir/pseuds/linndechir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sid is fifteen years old the first time he kills a man. He does it for Ben.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sorry about the blood in your mouth (I wish it was mine)

**Author's Note:**

> I know I need to stop using Siken quotes for fic titles, but I couldn't resist this one because Sid almost literally thinks that in this fic and it wasn't even on purpose. ;) Written for [Mob City Monday](http://mob-city-fanworks.tumblr.com/post/84644121342/spread-the-word-the-first-mob-city-monday-is-in).

Sid is fifteen years old the first time he kills a man. He does it for Ben.

They're still half children, reckless and dumb and with no real plan of what they want in life beyond more than what they have, and the older they get, the more trouble they find. Or maybe it's just more serious trouble now than a little squabble with other kids, or getting spanked by a teacher or an angry relative. Maybe it's because Ben has discovered girls and girls mean trouble, especially when your name is Ben Siegel and you look three years older than you are, with broad shoulders like a man and a roguish smile that makes every girl giggle. And because Ben only wants things more when he's told he can't have them, it's other boys' girlfriends he wants most. Meyer told him he was being an idiot, but Ben still seduced Sol Bronstein's girl, a gorgeous 18-year-old with red hair and a woman's curves, who'd laughed at Ben the first time he talked to her and called him a silly boy, but who'd let him kiss her not even a week later and pull her into his lap and a lot more, judging by the spring in Ben's step the next day. 

Until Sol found out, that is, and beat the shit out of Ben. Ben is strong for his age, but Sol is twenty and stronger, and Sid had been helping his father in the workshop that day. Sid hates himself for every cut and bruise he sees on Ben afterwards, hates himself for not being there and having Ben's back like they've promised each other since they were five years old.

More than that, though, he hates Sol Bronstein for laying a hand on Ben. He doesn't care if it was Ben's own fault for starting a fight he can't win, because that's not the damn point. Sid follows Sol for a day to map out where he goes and what he does, and he's always been good at blending in, remaining unseen when he wants to. The second night he follows Sol into a dark alley and stabs him three times into the back, because Sid is too smart for a fair fight. He watches Sol stumble before his knees hit the pavement with a satisfying _crunch_ , and he makes sure Sol sees him, eyes wide in shock and pain, before he cuts his throat.

Afterwards he doesn't really feel all that different. He's seen blood before, and lots of it, too. He's even seen the life go out of someone's eyes when he beats them until they're unconscious, and it doesn't look all that different just because they lose consciousness _permanently_. It's still more satisfying, somehow, it feels like solving a problem properly and completely instead of just making it go away for a while. It feels like a man's solution rather than a boy's. He doesn't stay long enough to watch the blood drain from Sol's lifeless body once it's sunk to the floor. But he's smart about it, he leaves the knife, takes Sol's watch from his wrist and his wallet out of his pocket to make it look like a robbery. He drops the watch and the wallet itself in a dumpster a few blocks away – one he knows will be emptied in the morning –, even though the watch was probably worth something, but not worth enough to get caught. He only keeps the cash from the wallet – not much, really, but a small fortune for a boy like Sid.

On the way home he's starting to feel giddy, as if the rush of what he's just done only slowly catches up with him. It's less the act of killing itself, as good as that felt – he liked the resistance when he pushed the knife into Sol's body, and the slick, easy slide when he pulled it out – and more the knowledge that he's taken care of the bastard who broke Ben's nose and kept kicking him when Ben was lying on the floor, and really, Bronstein should probably be grateful that Sid hadn't had the time and the privacy to make him hurt a lot more for what he'd done to Ben. Sid brings the money to Meyer, because Meyer is smart and has hiding places that none of the others know about, while Ben would just waste the money to buy some bullshit for one of his girls. Sid expects Meyer to give him that look, like Meyer is ten years older than them and tired of their childish games, but to his surprise Meyer only nods and takes the money. Asks Sid if he was careful, says “you did what was necessary” like he has a lifetime of experience with that sort of thing, and tells Sid that it's better if he takes care of such problems than Ben with his impatience and his temper.

Sid only keeps enough of the money to go to Lipkin's pastry shop in a week or two and buy a few of those little chocolate cakes they had at Ben's cousin's wedding last year and which they can't afford on a normal day, but he's prudent enough to wait instead of flashing his money the day after a nearby robbery. Instead he heads directly to Ben's home, climbs up the old fire escape and through Ben's window to avoid yet another conversation with Ben's mother about how he should really keep her son out of trouble.

Ben is still up, even though it's late, and he looks almost worse than the day before. His face is all swollen up, he can barely see out of one eye, and he moves like every bone and muscle in his body ache. But he smiles when he sees Sid, that brilliant, bright smile that makes Sid wish he was the one with the broken nose and the bruised ribs.

“Where have you been? I've been bored out of my mind,” Ben complains, but he's still smiling, smiling until he flinches because his face must hurt. He puts the little icepack back against his swollen cheek, and Sid winces in sympathy. He sinks onto the floor in front of Ben's wobbly chair, because there's no other place to sit down in the small room except for Ben's bed, and because it feels right that way. He leans his cheek against Ben's knee, sighs softly. 

“I'm sorry, Ben.” His tone must have been too serious to be a mere apology for not keeping him company, because Ben frowns and cocks his head to the side.

“For what?” Ben grabs Sid's chin to make him look up, and Sid notices only then that Ben's knuckles are scraped. He shouldn't be surprised, of course Ben had fought back, even against someone five years his senior and a head taller. Sid kisses Ben's palm.

“For not being there when you needed me.” He licks his lips, lowers his voice a little, as if anyone could possibly hear them. “But I made him pay for it.”

“What did you do, Sid?” Ben sounds more worried about him than anything else. Sid moves closer until he sits between Ben's legs, looks up at him.

“Stabbed him, then cut his throat.” His voice is firm, doesn't shake even the smallest bit. It feels more real, somehow, now that he's said it. Or maybe it's just because the deed hadn't felt complete until Ben knew about it. He hadn't been nervous before, but he'd been excited. Now he just feels utterly calm. Ben's hand stills on his cheek. It trembles a little.

“Bronstein?” he asks, and Sid nods. The hint of a smile flashes over Ben's face, he glances down almost bashfully, but it's only a moment before he meets Sid's eyes again, and his voice sounds eager now, “Really? You killed him?”

Sid nods again and turns Ben's hand in his own, then presses a gentle kiss to Ben's bruised knuckles.

“For me?” Ben whispers, his eyes wide, and Sid thinks there's something almost like awe in them.

“He hurt you,” Sid says, and the rage that still feels him at that thought is more overwhelming than anything else he's ever felt. He's seen Ben hurt before, but that had been in fights, with Ben giving at least as good as he got. It had never been like this. He'd never been _scared_ for Ben. “Nobody hurts you. And if they try, I'll kill them.”

“You're serious, huh?” Ben still sounds like he can barely believe it, but there's not even a hint of disapproval in his voice. On the contrary, he sounds flattered, every bit as flattered as one of the neighbourhood girls when he calls her pretty, although Sid is sure Ben would resent the comparison. He nods instead and rubs his cheek against the back of Ben's hand. Ben laughs suddenly, but his laughter turns into a cough and he holds his ribs, shivering violently before the pain abates. Sid inches closer still, puts his head on Ben's thigh in a silent gesture of comfort. He hates that he can't hug him, that he can't pull him close and hold him tight without hurting him more. He only relaxes again when Ben stops coughing and reaches down to run his fingers through Sid's hair, stroking it just the way he knows Sid likes it. 

“You crazy bastard,” Ben says, voice full of fondness, and Sid melts into the sound of that voice as much as into Ben's touch. The floor is hard and uncomfortable, but he hopes Ben won't ask him to move any time soon.

“Are you really surprised I did that?” Sid asks after a few minutes of comfortable silence, and he feels Ben's thigh shift a little under his cheek.

“I … not surprised, just … I love that you did that for me,” Ben says, again with that note of embarrassment, like Sid buried that knife in Sol's back to woo him. And maybe he did, maybe this has been his way of telling Ben just how much he'd do for him, that his love for Ben isn't just a child's affection, soon to be forgotten once they've grown up. But Sid isn't one for great gestures, ostentation has always been more Ben's style than his. The truth is, he did it because it needed to be done. Because someone needs to protect Ben, no matter how strong and capable Ben himself is. Someone needs to fight and kill for Ben and get him out of all that trouble he gets himself into.

Sid is fifteen years old the first time he kills a man. He does it for Ben, and as he sits by Ben's feet, his head in Ben's lap and Ben's hand in his hair, he realises without any doubt something he's felt in his heart since he and Ben had first smiled at each other over another boy's bloodied face – that there's nothing in the world he wouldn't do for him.


End file.
